The Confident
by that inflammable lorelei
Summary: A little short story. Not meant to be accurate.


The Confident 

WRITTEN BY LORELEI, THANK YOU. 

DISCLAIMER: I feel so bad. This is a take-off on a short story. As in I copied. The dialogue is not the same, but the basic idea is. Forgive me, America and/or other English-speaking countries. 

Ranma 1/2 belongs to many spiffy people, all of whom I do not know. But if you offered me to have lunch with them, I would be happy to oblige. 

The Girl ran frantically down the grey road under the cherry blossoms. No one was around at the time, but she would have run if the whole world had been looking on. For here she was, Tendo Akane, carrying what may possibly be the most presentable cake she had ever made, despite the lumps. And did she not plan to present this cake to Nabiki in hopes of actually *winning* a bet? And was there not a rainstorm, the clouds dark and foreboding, coming at her straight from Mt. Fugi? 

Principally, the answer was 'yes'. 

Right in front of Akane was a small shabby pavilion, looking as though no respectable person had come near it for years. But by no means was Tendo Akane respectable. She headed for it, her slipper-clad feet pounding against the pavement, her long silk scarf fluttering anxiously from behind: a delicate piece of material such as that was not used to such treatment. Nor, by the look of its mud stains and holes, was it likely that it would be subjected to such treatment again. 

"Oh, I *can't* be too late!" moaned Akane through gritted teeth. She clutched at her prize. "I *won't* be!" 

It was a neck-to-neck race between the rain and Akane, but Akane won. Just as she was coming upon the pavilion, a Young Man from an aligned road pelted beside her, and they dashed up the steps to the pavilion just as the shower swept down upon all of Tokyo, blotting it into a greyish haze. 

The pavilion was terribly small, and right now the rain was sweeping in at two sides, leaving only one dry spot left in the room. The Young Man hastily took it. Akane gave him a moody glance, but sat down on another, carefully shielding her precious cake with her ruined scarf. Her face was flushed and triumphant, and she flashed the Young Man a winning smile. The Young Man thought that never in his life had he seen such a pretty face. 

"I'm so happy I didn't get my cake wet," Akane gasped, patting her hair. 

"Your... cake... ?" the Young Man asked uncertainly. Then his eyes fell on the small lumpy thing that was half-wrapped with what must have once been a very fancy silk scarf. 

"Yes," Akane said, giving him a small glare that made the Young Man swallow any rude comments he was planning on. 

"It... would have been too bad," the Young Man said politely, "It's a very, er, nice cake." 

"Nice!" Akane looked at him in shock. "Anyone can make a nice cake. *This* cake, however," she gave it a light pat. "Is much more." 

"Er... is it?" 

"You'd better believe it," Akane said forcefully, as if daring him to not believe it. "This cake is going to win me a bet." 

The Young Man felt his senses reeling. "Oh?" 

"Yes," she said triumphantly. "My sister Nabiki bet that I couldn't make a cake half-decent. She bet an entire 10000-yen! I'm not a good cook, you see. But I have been practicing, and I think I've got something that'll surprise her, to say the least." 

She smiled at him in a comfortable fashion. The Young Man smiled back. Akane thought she had never seen such nice grey eyes before. He could not be from around. She was sure she knew all of the nice young men with nice grey eyes near the dojo. 

"It's raining very hard," Akane complained, peering from her seat. "But I'll stay here, even if it rains for a week. I *won't* get my cake wet. It's my only chance to outsmart Nabiki. She's so good at money and things, you know, a real financier. I hate financiers, don't you?" 

"I think they cause all the financial discomforts they try to avoid," the Young Man said solemnly. 

Akane gave him a look of mutual understanding. "That's just what I told Nabiki. And I was determined to show I could cook well enough if I tried. I approached the kitchen like a samurai would an enemy's camp; and I'm sure any samurai would want to identify his weakness and work on it. That's what I did: only my weakness is cooking. I practiced for weeks -- in an old shed on our grounds, so that Nabiki wouldn't know -- and this cake is the best I've done so far. And so I was set on coming out in the park with my cake. I needed to be alone, and I knew everyone would be at the martial rhythmic gymnastics match. By the way, why aren't *you* there?" 

"I didn't even know there *was* a match," said the Young Man meekly, as if ashamed of his stupidity. 

"Oh dear," Akane said pityingly, "How couldn't you have heard of it? It's Furinkan High School versus St. Bacchus School for Girls. Almost everyone around here is for St. Bacchus, because its rhythmic gymnastics captain is Kuno Kodachi. The girls like her because of her style in the ring, and the guys like her because she's gorgeous. But I'm for Furinkan; the girls there have more backbone, and after all, it's my school. Nabiki says it's just because of my contrariness. Last year I screamed myself hoarse at the game. I would have competed myself but I got injured. Bacchus won, though, six to four." 

"If you like the match so much, then I wonder why you aren't goin'," the Young Man said boldly. "So do I," Akane sighed. "But I was too worried to think about martial arts today. I had to come here and sort it all out. I thought that maybe I would have everything planned out in my mind before the match, and then I could bring the cake to give to Nabiki, collect my yen, and go to the event. But I couldn't. It was just maddening, too, because I had finished my cake today on purpose; and if Furinkan won, it would be an added bonus to the gained bet. Nabiki goes to Furinkan but she loves St. Bacchus. Don't ask me why. But I couldn't go to the match and take any interest if I was that worried, could I? 

The Young Man hastened to assure her that of course she couldn't. It was out of the question. 

Akane smiled. Without a smile, she was indescribably cute. With a smile, she was indescribably charming. 

"I like having my opinions encouraged. I want to tell you something. May I?" 

"Sure. I'll won't tell anyone," the Young Man said solemnly. 

Akane leaned forward. "I don't know you and you certainly do not know me. That's why I want to tell you about *It.* If I told anyone I knew they'd blab it all over. I couldn't show my face in public. It's horrible to talk to you like this. Nabiki would have three fits, one after another, if she saw me. But Nabiki, I think, is too conventional. I love to do something crazy occasionally. You don't mind, do you?" 

"No, of course not," said the Young Man sincerely. 

Akane sighed. 

"I've come to the point where I must tell someone about *It* or go crazy. It used to be I could tell things to Kasumi: she's my other sister. That was before she got engaged to Dr. Tofu. Now she tells everything to him, even when I swear her to the utmost secrecy. There's no earthly way of preventing her. I've tried them all. And of course Nabiki would only charge me for advice. So now I go to a mirror and tell it to my reflection. It's a real relief. But now I want someone who'll say things back. You'll say things back, right?" 

The Young Man promised to do so at the proper time. 

"Okay. But please don't look at me, because I know I'll blush. Nabiki sometimes says I've lost the 'art of blushing,' but actually I can blush awfully." 

The Young Man dragged his eyes from the girl with the short hair and fastened them on the disappearing rain clouds. 

"Well," began Akane, "the root of *It* is this: there's a young man in China. I tend to think of him as I think of the whole situation, as *It.* He's the son of a man who was Father's best friend when they were children, before Father settled down with his dojo. Even worse, he comes out of a family that has the dumbest habit of marrying into our family -- arranged marriages. Father left most of his traditions when he got married, but he kept this one with him. He and this friend agreed that the latter's son should marry one of Father's daughters. It should've been Kasumi, or even Nabiki -- they're older than I am. But it turns out *It's* the same age I am, and Father's friend thinks it's 'improper' for his son to marry a girl older than him. So Father stuck with me. Ever since I was a baby I've been told that as soon as I grew up there'd be a husband shipped to me from China, where he was training. Now," said Akane sadly, "isn't that the most appallingly stupid thing you have ever heard?" 

The Young Man shook his head but didn't look at her. 

"It's pretty bad," he said slowly. 

"You see," said Akane pathetically, "I've suffered with this piece of information my whole life. When I was little I didn't mind. It was way too far in the future. But as I grew up it was awful. I never was allowed to have any fun. And Nabiki had such a good time! She had hundreds of boyfriends, despite her high expenses. And Kasumi, though she didn't go to parties much, is engaged now -- I'm still not comfortable with Dr. Tofu, I had a crush on him about a year ago -- but he is her choice. They weren't told there was a man who would come when they were seventeen and propose to them when he decided." Akane cracked her knuckles. "It makes me so angry I want to knock down this pavilion." 

"But the rain hasn't stopped," said the Young Man hastily. He had his own reasons for avoiding cold water. 

"True. Okay, I'll see if I can calm down. Any questions so far? I can't tell stories right, I always leave something out." 

"Is -- is there -- anyone else?" asked the Young Man tentatively. 

"Oh, no. How could there be? I haven't had the chance. Did you know I haven't been aloud to flirt at all because I was engaged to *It?* I used to demand Nabiki tell me all about it, but she'd tell me I should be thankful of having such a good match. *It* is rich, you know, and knows all about different martial arts, perfect for a dojo. As if I cared how clever or rich he was! Nabiki made me so mad, and Kasumi made me so unhappy (though Kasumi didn't mean it) that I gave up protesting and sulked. So they think I've given in." Akane's eyes gleamed. "But I haven't." 

"Maybe he's nicer than you think," suggested the Young Man. 

"*Nice!* That isn't the point, don't you get it? But no, you're a man, you couldn't. You just take my word for it. The whole thing makes me furious. But I haven't told you the worst. *It* is on his way. He could come any minute. And my family is so frustratingly happy about it." 

"Whaddya think *he* feels like?" asked the Young Man reflectively. 

"Well," Akane said flatly, "I've been thinking so much about myself I haven't thought about his view on the whole thing. But I guess he must hate me as much as I hate him." 

"Oh, I dunno," the Young Man said thoughtfully. 

"Don't you? Well, I guess you know what he feels like more than I do. You should know the man's point of view." 

"Well," said the Young Man in an indifferent tone. "I might not be right, but I guess he's thinkin' this: Ever since he's little he's told there's a little girl his age who's growin' up. Some day she'll marry him. But right now, she's preparing herself, and he needs to do that too. So for her sake, he tries to be the best guy he can be. He lives a clean and good life. He studies martial arts techniques, so he can be a true man and good successor of her dojo when the time comes. She sorta inspires him, I guess, as a model he tries his best to follow." 

The Young Man looked away from the nonexistent rain clouds and turned, rather sheepishly, to Akane. She bent forward with shining eyes and reached as if to touch his hand, then pulled her arm away. 

"You're wonderful," she said breathlessly. "If he thought -- but no, of course he doesn't. He's just coming out here like he's going to the stake. He knows he'll be expected to propose to me when he comes. And he knows that I know it too. And he knows that I know that I'll be expected to say 'yes,' prim and proper." 

"But are you gonna say that?" asked the Young Man -- he asked it anxiously. 

Akane smiled slyly. "No. That's my secret. I'm going to say 'no,' as loud and as improper as I can." 

"But won't your family rankle?" 

"Of course. But I kind of enjoy a good quarrel once and awhile. It stirs up life so nicely. I came out here and thought the whole thing out. And I have vowed to say 'no.' " 

"Oh, I wouldn't vow that," the Young Man said quickly. "I'd leave a loophole, maybe. See, if you start to like him more than you expected, it would be terrible to go on n' say 'no,' wouldn't it?" 

"I suppose," Akane said, placing her finger on her chin and tilting her head to one side, making her look prettier than she knew. "But I won't change my mind." 

"Just to be safe," said the Young Man. 

Akane stood up. The rain had finished and the sun was shining. 

"I guess so," she said slowly. "So I'll just vow to say 'no' if I don't want to say 'yes.' That's the same thing, really. Thanks so much. I must've bored you, but now I feel calm and rational, and I can go home and behave myself. Goodbye." 

"Uh, bye," the Young Man stammered. He stood stock still on the pavilion and watched Akane out of site beyond the cherry trees. He started to go down the steps of the pavilion, but tripped on one step and landed in a puddle. 

"Oh, great," he, or rather she, grumbled. 

When Akane got home she was told that Furinkan had won, eight to seven, despite numerous traps set by Kodachi. She took her cake (which by now was not edible), set it on the kitchen table, and waved her wrecked scarf happily. 

"It's too bad I didn't go. Nabiki would've fallen over if she saw my cake before it got ruined." 

But the next news was not as good, at least in Akane's eyes. *It* had arrived. He had come to the dojo that afternoon, and was coming to dinner. 

"How lucky," said Akane, as she went into her room and shut the door, "that I told everything to that Young Man in the park. If I'd come back with all of those built-up feelings and heard the news, I might've turned the dojo into a pile of scraps. What lovely blue-grey eyes he had! I love grey eyes. *It* will be sure to have boring old brown ones." 

When Akane went down to meet *It* she found herself meeting the Young Man instead. For the first, last, and only time in her life she couldn't say anything. Fortunately, her family thought her confusion and flustering very pretty and polite. They had really not expected her to take the whole matter so naturally. And as for the Young Man, he was perfect. 

Near the end of dinner, when Akane was beginning to recover the words that seemed to have been lost in her throat, he turned to her. 

"You know I promised not to tell," he said. 

"Be sure you don't," Akane said weakly. 

"But aren't you glad ya left the loophole?" he persisted. 

Akane smiled down into her lap. 

"Perhaps," she said. 


End file.
